


Other People's Happiness

by Crollalanza



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Beginnings, M/M, daisuga established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-05-01 03:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5190050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crollalanza/pseuds/Crollalanza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had been two years since he'd seen Tsukishima Kei, and people change, but Kuroo hadn't been prepared for that first thrilling shock when he arrived at the apartment.</p><p>He was hot, no doubt about that, but he'd also grown into an A grade prejudiced asshole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other People's Happiness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dubstepbard (trashytalk)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashytalk/gifts).



> This is a present for Pri because it was her birthday yesterday. (Yes, she shares a birthday with Yamaguchi and Futakuchi!) 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this.

The first shock had been when he’d opened the door.

It shouldn’t have been. Kuroo knew who was coming, knew who Suga had said ‘yes, yes, it’s fine come and stay with us’ to, and he’d agreed to stay in that afternoon to welcome the guy. He knew him after all, and had taken a special and not-so-secret pride in the boy’s development. So all in all, he was looking forward to seeing his adopted kouhai when he turned up in Tokyo (and taking the piss, ‘cause that guy might have looked cool as a cucumber, but find the right button and he was easy to provoke).

He sauntered to the door, taking it slow when he heard the buzzer, shouted ‘Yo’ and let him in.

And gaped.

“You’ve changed.”

“I’m taller, yes,” Tsukishima replied.

Which he was, but it was more than that. True he still had glasses, and they looked the same as Kuroo remembered (nothing flash, perfectly functional) but his hair was longer, pushed back over his ears, and he’d filled out. He no longer stooped, but held his head high and shoulders back. Maybe that’s why Kuroo noticed his chest, that and it seemed broader. He wasn’t a boy anymore. Eighteen years old, or thereabouts, and the man within him really starting to emerge.

“Am I allowed in, Kuroo-san. Or do you intend for me to sleep on the doorstep?”

“Uh ... yeash... uh ... yeah, sure.” He reached across for Tsukishima’s bag, then opened the door wider to let him inside. “Suga said you were looking at our university.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, not relinquishing his bag. “Where shall I put this?”

Kuroo pointed to the door at the end of the hallway. “Yaks ain’t around, so you can crash there.”

“Thank you.”

He brushed past Kuroo, not intentionally, but their shoulders touched, leading Kuroo to press against the wall. Tsukishima glanced back. “Sorry.”

“S’fine. Uh ... you want anything? Tea? Coffee? Water? Juice? Cola? Or food, anything to eat?”

Tsukishima blinked, and the left hand corner of his mouth tugged upwards as if being pulled by an invisible thread. “I ate on the train, but a cup of tea would be appreciated, Kuroo-san.”

“Comin’ right up,” he replied, then flashed him a grin. “You can drop the ‘san’, Tsukki-kun.”

“It’s Tsukishima, not Tsukki,” he corrected, adding in a more moderate tone, “Thank you, _Kuroo_.”

“Bathroom’s next door if you want to freshen up.”

He nodded, then as he entered Yaku’s bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him, Kuroo was left standing in the hallway, both amused and somewhat perturbed at what had just passed between them.

On the surface, obviously, it was a normal and polite conversation. And, well, it had been two years since he’d seen Tsukishima, so it probably was dumb to think they’d slide back into the old patterns straight away, but something was out of whack, Kuroo thought, but whether it was in himself, or in the boy who’d just arrived, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both.

Steeping the tea, he rummaged in the sink for two mugs, cleaning them thoroughly (because he had a feeling their guest was going to be fussy) and drying with a clean tea towel, Kuroo poured then carried both mugs to the kitchen table. He sat down, opened his laptop and started to plug away at his report.

The second shock appeared when Tsukishima strolled in. He’d changed out of the tracksuit bottoms and hoodie, and was now wearing shorts (displaying more muscular legs than the noodle limbs Kuroo remembered) and a t-shirt. An odd t-shirt with a dinosaur on the front. And it was orange, too. Kuroo hadn’t figured on Tsukishima wearing orange, then caught himself wondering why he’d given any thought to the colour of Tsukishima’s clothes. Aware he was staring, he pushed the mug of tea across the table and licked his lip.

“Nice shirt.”

“This?” He looked down, and plucked at it with his thin fingers and grimaced. “The team’s idea of a joke. Our Libero wears orange.”

“Sawamura tells me you’re captain now.”

“Yes.” He picked up the cup, took a sip and began to turn away.

And he didn’t know why, because hell knew he had the report to finish, but just at that moment, Kuroo kicked out a chair. “Think you’ll get to Nationals this year?”

It worked. Tsukishima changed his mind and took the proffered chair. “That’s the plan, but the competition remains strong, and ...” He sighed. “We lost Nishinoya last year.”

“Big boots to fill for such a short guy, huh?”

“Mmm. We have a first year and he’s good, but –” He paused and took a little more tea. “I understand now why Daichi-san was so strict at the beginning. We were all quite scared of him.”

“And your team are scared of you, are they? Do you yell at them?”

Snorting, Tsukishima put down his mug. “I use words not my voice to cut them down to size. I’m respected, but I’m aware that I’m not liked. Hinata’s the one they talk to. Or Yachi-kun.”

“Does that bother you?” Kuroo raised his eyebrows, staring at the boy across the table, who seemed so calm discussing the team dynamics.

“Did it bother _you_?”

“Oh...” Taken aback, Kuroo touched his hand to his chest. “Nekoma liked me. Sure, I yelled and was strict, but they knew I had their backs.” He frowned. “Hold on, everyone liked me!”

Tsukishima smirked. “I didn’t.”

He should have been stung, but he wasn’t. Instead, he leant across the table and quirked one eyebrow. “Yeah, but you didn’t like _anyone_. You only hung around with one kid, didn’t ya? The serve guy.”

“Yamaguchi. Yes, he’s my best friend.” He reassumed his mask, the one Kuroo remembered from two years before, and got to his feet. “I should unpack.”

“Don’t forget your...” _Tea_ , he was going to say, but Tsukishima had left before Kuroo could finish the sentence.

 

It was an hour before Suga and Daichi made it home. Staggering through the door under the weight of textbooks and shopping, both were laughing and in clear high spirits.

“No!” Suga yelped from the hallway. “That’s cold!”

“It’s a hot day! I thought you’d appreciate cooling off!”

“A cold drink!  Not that ice block!”

He continued shrieking, and peering through a crack in the kitchen door, Kuroo smirked because Daichi had wrestled Suga to the ground, and was not only tickling him, but had grabbed a tub of ice cream and was rolling it across Suga’s stomach.

“Get off MEEEEE!” Suga cried. “N-no ... Daichi, come on. PLEEEASEEE!”

“Mwahahahaha – Revenge is so, so sweet, Koushi! Apologise.”

“Never!”

“Apologise ...” Daichi roared, and leaning right over, he stared into Suga’s eyes. “Or ...” His voice deepened. “I find another use for this ice cream.”

“Not ... the ... face.  No ... no ... Daichi, the shirt’s new. STOP!”

Getting to his feet, Kuroo wandered towards them, and leant against the doorjamb. He stifled a snort, enjoying the sight of a writhing Suga as Daichi threatened to decorate his body with cookie dough ice cream. But then he heard a click, like the sound of a door being tentatively opened. “Guys,” he called, “some of us ain’t eaten yet.”

They twisted their faces towards him, sporting identical goof ball expressions.

“Hey, Kuroo,” chirped Suga. “Mind giving me a hand and getting this guy off me?”

“Nope, I ain’t coming to your aid, not after that stroke you pulled with the chillies, Sugawara,” he replied, but wandered over, deliberately not looking up the hallway.

“Help me get revenge,” Daichi cried, grinning nastily. “C’mon, Kuroo, you know you want to.”

“Uh, your kouhai’s here,” he whispered. “You might wanna tone it down a little.”

“Tsukishima?” Daichi lessened his hold, jerking his head up, so Suga, taking advantage, heaved him off with his legs, rolled over and scrambled to his feet.

“Tsukishima-kun!” he cried, not the least bit abashed as he pulled down his shirt. “When did you get here?”

“About an hour ago,” he replied, his voice quiet, but still carrying down the hallway.

Ignoring the lack of an approach, Suga strode towards him, bright eyes and an even brighter smile.  “Well, you must be starving, and somewhere in one of the bags, unless Daichi forgot, is strawberry shortcake.” He slowed to a halt. “That is still your favourite, I hope.”

“That’s very kind.”

“I’m so sorry we weren’t back sooner. Kuroo, you should have said.”

Kuroo opened his mouth to say something but Suga wasn’t listening instead carrying on a rather garbled speech, laughing and welcoming all at once.

“Daichi, come and look at our kouhai. Look, look. He’s grown, I think?  Is that right?  Have you grown?”

And completely oblivious, it seemed to Kuroo, to the stiff smile, tense shoulders and hands clenching as he bowed.

“How tall now?” Daichi asked as he followed Suga.

“One nine five,” he muttered. Then he swallowed and bowed again. “It is very good of you to put me up. I’ll try not to get in your way.”

“Our w-way?” Suga stuttered. “Tsukishima, it’s our pleasure and I can’t wait to show you around. You’re going to love the university, and the campus. Oh, and, if you’re lucky you might get to play some volleyball. There’s an old friend dying to see you again, and no, I don’t mean Kuroo. ”

Despite his obvious attempt not to be at all interested, Tsukishima’s eyes widened a touch. “Who?” he asked.

“A certain owl. Remember him?” Daichi teased. “Bokuto-san has not let up this week, saying he has to have another chance against you. Think he has a point to prove.”

 “Ah, I’m sorry, but no,” Tsukishima replied, shaking his head, not nastily but with decision. “I’m going to be very busy as I’m not just looking at this university. I ... uh ... won’t have time for volleyball. Please explain to Bokuto-san.”

Shock number three left them all blinking. Despite the fact that they all knew Tsukishima’s passion for volleyball hadn’t been strong in his first year, he was now Captain, and they’d watched him grow, watched him prosper, watched him fall in love with the game and himself as a player.

Kuroo, realising Daichi and Suga were struggling with this (because he also knew they’d been haring around arranging a practise game for their old kouhai) rallied first.  “You might as well, Bo’s only gonna come round here and bug ya if you don’t turn up. But I guess we could hide you in the wardrobe.”

“Not Morisuke’s,” Suga quipped. “You won’t fit. It will have to be ours as he’s bound to think you’re hiding him, Kuroo.” He tried another smile as he stared up at Tsukishima. “That pair still fight over who was the greatest influence on you.”

“Really?” Tsukishima raised one eyebrow, the effect rendering him both sarcastic and bored, but for all that, there was a glimmer of something else in his eyes, something that looked like regret.

 “Yeah, right!” Kuroo scoffed. But then he grinned. “It was me, wasn’t it? All those hours I put in with ya. Teaching you my ways. Gotta be better than listening to the trappy owl tryin’ to provoke ya.”

Approaching Tsukishima, Daichi clapped him on the back. “One training camp against the hours and weeks of practise with us? I don’t think you and Bokuto get a look in,” he teased. “It was me, wasn’t it? Imparting my Captaincy skills.”

“What? Um ...” Tsukishima stared at Daichi, looking somewhat shocked. Kuroo knew why, because Daichi as a Captain had had an air about him, somewhat intimidating and he guessed that was what Tsukishima remembered (and valued). But Daichi-the-student was rediscovering his ability to be irresponsible, largely egged on by Suga, and the contrast must have been disconcerting.

“Actually ... uh ...” Tsukishima shuffled his feet, edging away from them all and back towards the bedroom. “I need to finish ... something,” he said, and closed the door.

“What did I say?” Daichi stage-whispered, and started to laugh.

But Suga didn’t join in. Looking thoughtful, he turned back down the hallway and proceeded to pick up the spilt groceries, sighing as he discovered the strawberry shortcake had got a little squashed in its box.

“Sug, it’ll be fine,” Daichi said. “Still going to taste the same.”

“Mmm, it’s not the same, though, is it?”

“The shortcake?”

“That, too,” Suga murmured, and pushing past the both of them, he began to unpack the shopping.

Picking up his laptop, Kuroo excused himself and headed for his room. There were times he didn’t get Sugawara at all. He was a guy who spent the majority of his time all smiles and light, laying down the sickest burns of them all, but in such a way you didn’t realise until it was too late to respond. But there was this other side, an insecurity that manifested itself in silence and too much rumination, which only Daichi could snap him out. Before he entered his bedroom, Kuroo looked back and caught a glimpse of Sawamura sliding his arms around Suga, and kissing his forehead.

“It’s just his way, Suga, you know what he’s like.”

“No, he’s different,” Suga replied. Then catching Kuroo looking at them, he turned away.

***

Tsukishima emerged from his bedroom when dinner was ready. Still in the same orange shirt and shorts, he thanked Suga politely for the meal, and sat in the chair offered to him, which was next to Daichi and opposite Kuroo.

To his surprise, it was Daichi who started asking him questions. Surprise because Suga was usually the one bursting with curiosity, gabbling away whenever they had a visitor, but as his eyes flickered to Suga’s face, he realised the intention. Daichi’s questions were all team related, or to do with school, whereas Suga would always ask after people.

“We have a practise match coming up against Seijou,” Tsukishima was saying. “They have some interesting first years, or so Kindaichi-kun’s told me.”

“Think you’ll win?”

He grimaced. “Depends what he means by ‘interesting’, but from what I know, they don’t have anyone of Kageyama’s calibre. And now Hinata’s stopped receiving with his face ...”

“You speak to the Seijou Captain?” Suga finally ventured.

He nodded and scooped some rice into his mouth, chewing slowly before swallowing. “Ennoshita-san became friendly with the other captains last year. It’s helped build bonds throughout the prefecture,” he said, and gave them both a wary smile. “Practise games against stronger sides.”

“Good idea,” Daichi said mildly. “If we’d had that in our day, then we wouldn’t have had to travel to Tokyo.”

“Ah, but then ya wouldn’t have met-” Kuroo started to say, but Suga was laughing

“ _Our_ day!” he exclaimed. “You make us sound like grandparents, Daichi! I’ll be tucking a blanket round your knees next. Or a hot water bottle for our bed.”

The implication was mild, but the reaction from Tsukishima telling. In an instant, his half smile had disappeared, replaced by a mask.  He continued eating, picking at the food, and not really relishing, but he wouldn’t be drawn on any other questions about the team.

“Tomorrow,” Suga said when Daichi was clearing the bowls. “I can show you around the campus, if you’d like.”

“That isn’t necessary, Sugawara-san,” he murmured. “I’m booked in for a tour at ten, and then I have subject meetings to attend.”

“Mmm, I figured,” Suga replied, and there was an air that he was ploughing on despite Tsukishima’s intransigence. “The official tours are ... um ... limited, though. And I know you don’t want to play, but you might as well take a peek at the gym. It’s massive. Daichi and Kuroo have lectures, but I can take you there. Then we could have lunch. Daichi and I know this wonderful sushi bar. We’ll fit this all around you, obviously, Tsukishima-kun.”

It would have been churlish to refuse, but then, from what Kuroo remembered of Tsukishima, he could be churlish, especially when confronted with something he really didn’t feel comfortable with.

Kuroo stared across the table at him. There was something about the arch of his eyebrow, the way he wrinkled his nose a little that was so starkly reminiscent of him walking away from the gym all those years before when Kuroo provoked him, Kuroo knew exactly what his answer would be.

“I do have a full day ahead, Sugawara-san. Please do not concern yourself with me.”

“Uh ... okay.” Suga tried again. “How about tonight? Daichi and I could take you now. Bokuto-san lives on campus, so he’ll show you his room... what you can see of it, that is. And then, we could go to a coffee shop, or see a movie. There’s an old picture house nearby that Ennoshita-kun raved over when he visited...”

A lesser man would have caved by then because Suga’s tone, coupled with his smile, could devastate the strongest of people. And Kuroo could see their kouhai was taken aback, and a small bead of sweat had formed on his forehead. But his knuckles were white as he picked up his water glass, draining it in one gulp.

“I am very tired after the journey, Sugawara-san,” he murmured. “I would really rather sleep tonight.” With a slight bow, he got to his feet. “Thank you for the food, but if you will excuse me, there’s some reading I need to finish.”

“There’s strawberry-” Suga started to say.

“Forget it,” Kuroo muttered, placing his hand on Suga’s shoulder. “I don’t think your kouhai’s interested in food or company. Just a place to kip for the night.”

“He’s right,” Daichi said, coming back to the table with the dessert. “Come on, Sug, you know what Tsukishima’s like. Can’t be seen to be enjoying himself.”

“Mmm, I know,” Suga replied. He was brooding again, staring at the table.  “Just ... he’s passionless, don’t you think?”

 _Or keeping a lid on it,_ Kuroo thought, because hate could be all-consuming, as was prejudice.

 

It was in the night that he heard him. Kuroo’s room was next to Yaku’s and the walls were thin, so every sound was audible. Over the past two years, he and Yaku had got used to each other’s intrinsic rhythm, so him getting up in the night, didn’t disturb his flatmate and vice versa.

And it didn’t help that as he struggled to sleep, Kuroo became acutely aware of every sound in the apartment, especially the ones emanating from _that_ room and from _that_ guest.

It wasn’t that he was crashing around. Kuroo couldn’t imagine Tsukishima had ever crashed anywhere. Even as a teenager, he seemed to have skipped the awkward clumsy stage, although maybe that had been down to him making minimal effort to move. But he was restless. Kuroo could hear the rustle of his sheets and the huff of his breath as he searched for sleep. Finally, he listened to a muffled but decisive groan, then the rattle of a door handle.

But there was no responding creak of the door to indicate Tsukishima had returned. The toilet didn’t flush, and he couldn’t hear the tap in the kitchen running.

He stared up at the ceiling, willing sleep to claim him, but knowing Tsukishima would be returning soon and that he’d be disturbed again, stopped him from submitting to the exhaustion waving through him.

That and the sudden question that popped into his mind. _Is he wearing shorts in bed?_

“Ugh! Shut up you dumbass,” he chastised, and clamping his pillows over his ears he gritted his teeth, willing sleep to come.

But it was no use. His throat dry now, he needed a glass of water, so with reluctance, he levered himself out of bed, checking his phone as he did so.

Fuck it, two o’clock, he thought. He had a lecture at ten, one he probably shouldn’t skip, and he’d also thought about getting an early practise in, but at this rate he’d never sleep.

The apartment was in darkness, there was no sign of anyone awake, not even Suga, who was a night owl often working into the early hours, but from the sitting room, he caught a faint blue glow, and forgetting his thirst, he wandered across the hallway.

In the armchair, his long legs curled up under him, Tsukishima was sat with his phone. His face, eerie in the blue light, reflected something almost sad, certainly wistful, as he scrolled through what Kuroo assumed to be messages. And although he was fairly sure Tsukishima didn’t want to be disturbed, and certainly not by him, Kuroo couldn’t help but watch. And noticing an almost vulnerable expression flick onto his face as his phone screen changed, Kuroo caught his breath.

“Hey,” he muttered. “You okay there, Tsukishima-kun?”

“Me?” Flustered, he dropped the phone. “Yes, yes, fine Kuroo-san. Absolutely. I am ... Sorry, did I disturb you?”

_Could say that._

“Nah, I needed a glass of water. Want one?”

“No. I’ll get back to bed.”  

His tone was blank, his face tight again, and as he unbent his body and got up from the chair.

As he walked past, Kuroo, meaning to pluck his sleeve, accidentally touched his arm.  Tsukishima flinched, backed away and rubbed at the spot, angry it seemed, as if Kuroo had doused him with scalding water.

“What!” he rasped.

 _Oh, you are tight assed, aren’t you?_ He started to smile, knowing full well it would piss him off.

“What do you want?” Tsukishima demanded, but he didn’t move further away, instead, he held his ground, hands on his hips and taking full advantage of his height to meet Kuroo’s eyes.

“You forgot your phone,” Kuroo replied, gesturing to the chair. “You dropped it when I walked in.”

“Oh ... thank you.” He stepped back towards the door. “Excuse me, Kuroo-san. I need to get past.”

“I ain’t stopping ya,” Kuroo whispered, leaning forwards.

“You’re in my way.”

“I’m sure you can get past.”  He smiled, enjoying the tussle, because for the first time, Tsukishima was looking annoyed, and that amused him.

“Fine,” he replied, and with no more warning, he pushed past Kuroo, stomping back into the room. As he bent down to retrieve his phone, running his hand under the chair, his shorts rose up his legs, and Kuroo’s mouth suddenly reminded him he needed water.

_Get a grip. No matter how fricking hot he’s become, he’s still an A grade asshole._

He turned back to the kitchen, his eyes drifted to the bathroom as he thought about the advisability of taking a cold shower at this time of night. It would wake him up even more, but then he wasn’t exactly sleeping now with this guy in the apartment.

“Why did you come here?”

“Hmm?” Tsukishima looked up from his phone, bemused. “Um, to see the university.”

“Yeah, I get that. But why come and stay with us? I’m sure the university coulda got you a room. And it’s clear you-”

“Sugawara-san offered,” Tsukishima replied, shaking his head as if the answer was obvious.

“And you didn’t think you could turn it down. Is that what you’re saying?”

“Uh ... I guess, but I ... I didn’t see any reason to say no.”

“You’re regretting it now, though, aren’t you?”

“What?” He straightened up, letting the hand holding the phone drop to his side, and stepped across to the doorway. “Kuroo-san, I don’t understand the question.”

“You hate being here,” Kuroo said softly. “I see it in your face. What, did you not know those guys were together?”

“Who, Suga and Daichi-san?” His brow furrowed. “Uh, of course I knew. We all knew.”

“But you didn’t realise how much it ... what ... revolted you until today?” Kuroo queried, his voice still low but with the hint of a threat.

“Revolted? What are you on about?”

“Don’t try to deny it, _Tsukki!”_ Kuroo spat. “I saw your face when they came in. I watched you at dinner unable to reply to anything Sugawara-san suggested with any warmth or enthusiasm. Those guys, Suga especially, are prepared to put themselves out for you because they’re under some stupid misapprehension that because you were once their kouhai, you still are. Hell, I get that, I see Lev around the place and still wanna kick him. But you ... they want to help. For some reason they like ya, and all you can do is throw that back in their-”

“Sssh!” Tsukishima pulled Kuroo into the sitting room, closing the door behind them

“What!”

“You’ll wake them.”

“So! Maybe they need to hear what a prejudiced git yo-”

“It’s not prejudice! I don’t give a monkey’s what they ... they ... are to each other. I respect them and am proud to know them. There’s absolutely no problem at all – not with their relationship, or anyone elses.”

He sounded genuine, certainly, there was a pleading note in his voice.

Kuroo narrowed his eyes. “Then what was all that crap earlier. Why are you so desperate to avoid being in the same room as them?”

Tsukishima groaned.  Pushing his glasses to the top of his head, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. “It’s ... nothing.”

“Don’t look like nothing,” Kuroo muttered. He cast his eyes downwards, settling his eyes on Tsukishima’s hand and the phone he was gripping tight.  And finally, he thought he understood.

Tsukishima had not been reading messages, or playing a game on his phone, but flicking through photographs. And the last one, the one he’d been staring at, was of his friend – the freckle faced kid he’d hung around with continually during training camp and at Nationals.

“Yamaguchi, right?”

“What?”

“On your phone?”

“Oh ... yes.” He turned the screen away from Kuroo, pressing the picture screen into his palm. “He ... uh ... has a girlfriend, our manager, actually.”

 “Other people’s happiness,” Kuroo guessed, “can send you over the edge.”

“Pardon... um ... what?”

“Take Daichi and Suga – they’re a great couple of guys and I wouldn’t begrudge them the world, but ... uh ... sometimes I need to shut myself away, too.”

“I don’t begrudge him happiness, you know,” Tsukishima murmured. “He’s my best friend, and we talk about everything. Or used to.”

“It happens.” Kuroo shrugged, but added darkly, “It’s tough, believe me I know, but people move on, or they stay where they are while you move on.”

Tsukishima swallowed, sniffed, then with another glance at his phone, he flicked it off. “Was I that rude to Suga-san? Sometimes I’m not sure.”

“Whereas other times it’s deliberate?” he asked, mocking just a little. And then he smiled. “Yeah, you were a bit rude. Suga’s just lookin’ out for you, alright?”

“I know. And I do appreciate it.” He sniffed again; his lips twitched. “I’m deliberately rude to you, Kuroo-san.”

“Nice to know I get that kind of reaction out of ya,” he said, chuckling. “Hey, as we’re both awake, d’you fancy some of that strawberry shortcake they bought for you?”

He considered, taking his time, and Kuroo noticed his fingers tightening around his phone, before he finally gave a glimmer of a smile. “Why not?”

 

At half past two, when both were eating their second slice, and Kuroo had managed to make Tsukishima snigger by regaling him with Bokuto’s latest escapade (getting stuck up a tree because he’d seen an owl) Suga wandered into the kitchen. He was yawning and scowling, obviously about to tear Kuroo off a strip for the noise, but his face softened when he saw Tsukishima.

“May I join you?” he asked. “Daichi’s fast asleep and I woke up hungry.”

“Sure,” Kuroo replied, pushing out a chair with his foot. His shin touched Tsukishima’s calf, an accidental nudge, but this time he didn’t flinch, and for an infinitesimally small moment, Kuroo wondered if he’d returned the pressure.

“Suga-san,” Tsukishima said, when all three were seated. “If it’s not too late, I’d like to take you up on your offer to show me around tomorrow ... I mean today.”

With his obvious surprise and delight, Suga nodded and beamed his wide smile at him.  “I’ll make sure we avoid Bokuto. That way he won’t drag you into a game.”

And then he laughed- the fifth shock of the day - because Kuroo didn’t think he’d heard him laugh with no side or mockery ever before.

“Actually, I’d like to play.” He grinned at Kuroo. “Be nice to be a team again, don’t you think?”

Kuroo laughed back, the idea warmed him almost as much as the genuine pleasure in Tsukishima’s eyes. “Yeah, let’s silence that trappy owl, once and for all.”


End file.
